My Financial Career我的银行旧事

When I go into a bank I get rattled1. The clerks rattle me; the wickets2 rattle me; the sight of the money rattles me; everything rattles me.

一走进银行我就发慌。银行职员让我发慌；服务窗口让我发慌；看到钱让我发慌：所有一切都让我发慌。

The moment I cross the threshold of a bank and attempt to transact business there， I become an irresponsible idiot.

跨入银行大门，打算办理业务的那一刻，我就变成了一个不靠谱的傻瓜。

I knew this beforehand， but my salary had been raised to fifty dollars a month and I felt that the bank was the only place for it.

我早知道会是这个局面，但我的工资已经涨到每月50美元，我感觉银行才是这笔钱的唯一去处。

So I shambled3 in and looked timidly round at the clerks. I had an idea that a person about to open an account must needs consult the manager.

于是我拖着步子走进去，怯生生地瞧了瞧四周的职员。我心里想，准备开银行账户的人都得咨询经理。

I went up to a wicket marked “Accountant.” The accountant was a tall， cool devil. The very sight of him rattled me. My voice was sepulchral4.

我朝着标有“会计”字样的窗口走去。会计是个高大时髦的家伙，一见着他我就心慌。我的声音低沉，了无生气。

“Can I see the manager？” I said， and added solemnly5， “alone.” I don’t know why I said “alone.”

“我能见你们经理吗？”我问，又郑重其事地加了句，“单独见。”我不知道自己为什么要说“单独见”。

“Certainly，” said the accountant， and fetched him.

“当然可以。”会计说，然后请来了经理。

The manager was a grave， calm man. I held my fifty-six dollars clutched in a crumpled6 ball in my pocket.

经理是个严肃冷静的人。我攥了攥口袋里皱成一团的56美元。

“Are you the manager？” I said. God knows I didn’t doubt it.

“你是经理吗？”我问道。上帝知道我一点都不怀疑他的身份。

“Yes，” he said.

“我就是。”他说。

“Can I see you，” I asked， “alone？” I didn’t want to say “alone” again， but without it the thing seemed self-evident7.

“我能和你聊聊吗？”我问，“单独聊？”我本不想再说“单独聊”，但即使我不说，这事也是明摆着的。

The manager looked at me in some alarm. He felt that I had an awful secret to reveal.

经理看着我，似乎有些吃惊。他以为我有什么重大的秘密要透露给他。

“Come in here，” he said， and led the way to a private room. He turned the key in the lock.

“进来说吧。”他说道，然后一路把我领进贵宾室。他转动钥匙，将门反锁。

“We are safe from interruption here，” he said; “sit down.”

“这儿不会有人打扰我们。”他说，“请坐。”

We both sat down and looked at each other. I found no voice to speak.

我们两个都坐了下来，看着对方。我一时说不出话来。

“You are one of Pinkerton’s men8， I presume，” he said.

“我猜，您是平克顿的侦探吧。”他说。

He had gathered from my mysterious manner that I was a detective. I knew what he was thinking， and it made me worse.

他从我神秘兮兮的举动中推断出我是个侦探。我知道他在想什么，这下我更慌神了。

“No， not from Pinkerton’s，” I said， seeming to imply that I came from a rival agency.

“不，我不是平克顿的。”我说，似乎在暗示我来自一家与平克顿竞争的事务所。

“To tell the truth，” I went on， as if I had been prompted to lie about it， “I am not a detective at all. I have come to open an account. I intend to keep all my money in this bank.”

“实话实说吧，”我接着说，就好像刚刚是不得已才撒谎，“我压根儿就不是侦探。我是来开户的。我打算把所有钱都存到你们银行。”

The manager looked relieved but still serious; he concluded now that I was a son of Baron Rothschild or a young Gould9.

经理看起来松了口气，但表情依旧严肃，他现在断定我是罗思柴尔德男爵的儿子，抑或是某位年轻的金融大亨。

“A large account， I suppose，” he said.

“想必是很大一笔钱吧。”他说。

“Fairly large，” I whispered. “I propose to deposit fifty-six dollars now and fifty dollars a month regularly.”

“相当大。”我压低声音说，“我计划这次存56美元，以后每个月按时存50美元。”

The manager got up and opened the door. He called to the accountant.

经理站起身，打开门，冲那个会计喊了一声。

“Mr. Montgomery，” he said unkindly loud， “this gentleman is opening an account， he will deposit fifty-six dollars. Good morning.”

“蒙哥马利先生，”他声音很大，听上去不太友好，“这位先生想开户，他要存56美元。再见。”

I rose.

我站起身来。

A big iron door stood open at the side of the room.

房间一侧开着一扇大铁门。

“Good morning，” I said， and stepped into the safe.

“再见。”我说，然后一脚踏进金库。

“Come out，” said the manager coldly， and showed me the other way.

“出来。”经理冷冷地说，指了指另一边。

I went up to the accountant’s wicket and poked the ball of money at him with a quick convulsive10 movement as if I were doing a conjuring trick.

我走到会计的窗口，猛地把那团钱递给他，动作快速突然，就像在变戏法。

My face was ghastly pale.

我的脸色惨白。

“Here，” I said， “deposit it.” The tone of the words seemed to mean， “Let us do this painful thing while the fit is on us11.”

“拿去，”我说，“存了。”这话的语气像是在说：“趁头脑发热，我们赶紧把这糟心事办了吧。”

He took the money and gave it to another clerk.

他接过钱，交给另一位职员。

He made me write the sum on a slip and sign my name in a book. I no longer knew what I was doing. The bank swam before my eyes.

他让我在一张单据上写下金额，并在账簿上签名。之后做了什么，我全然不知。银行在我眼前晃荡。

“Is it deposited？” I asked in a hollow， vibrating voice.

“存好了？”我用低沉又颤抖的声音问道。

“It is，” said the accountant.

“好了。”会计说。

“Then I want to draw a cheque.”

“那我想开张支票。”

My idea was to draw out six dollars of it for present use. Someone gave me a chequebook through a wicket and someone else began telling me how to write it out. The people in the bank had the impression that I was an invalid12 millionaire. I wrote something on the cheque and thrust13 it in at the clerk. He looked at it.